A Winter's Night
by Arcania Triflash
Summary: Dave really needs to learn some other way to prove his points. Pepsicola. Rated M for a reason. I don't know who made the cover art, but thank you! Homestuck belongs to Andrew Hussie.


A Winter's Night

PepsiCola

"D-dave-!" John's hands dug into the white sheets. Dave continued planting tortuous kisses along his neck, making John's hips twitch.

"Say it," he whispered in John's ear, sending shivers dow his spine. "Saaay it. Tell me I'm right."

Dave wound his hands in John's shaggy black hair, cradling his head gently. "Why not?" His sweet breath in John's ear sent electric sparks down his body.

All the way down.

"Aah! Dave, stop _teasing _me!" John squirmed, chafing against Dave, sending a quick blush to the hot blonde. John kissed him, kissed him hard. Their mouths clung to each other, and warmed up the cold winter night.

John gasped as Dave's cold hands trailed under his shirt. At this point, it was kind of surprising it was stil on, but Dave wasd known for dragging it out, making the other beg for it. Like some sort of fucked up Venus flytrap.

A very sexy venus flytrap.

But who cared about similes when your abs were being traced? Not John. He was arching his back into the bed like there was no tomorrow.

Dave lightly drew circles on his chest, while his other hand ventured south. John's cheeks were red and he writhed, however futile the action was. Dave's hand drifted against the belt of his jeans and paused. Waiting.

_Oh god dammit. _John was twitching, even more impatient now. impatient for his love, impatient for his hand to _finally _undo his jeans and grab his-

"_Dave!" _John groaned. He could sense the boy was grinning as he slid John's jeans off slowly. Very slowly. How could he stand to be so stoic at a time like this?! It was all John could do to not rip his clothes and Dave's off. But where was the fun in that?

"Eager tonight, Egbert?"

John gritted his teeth. "Infuriating tonight, Strider?" He gasped as Dave thrust his hand down John's underwear, gently stroking what was down there.

"How is your shirt still on?" John managed to breathe out. Again, a smirk, and Dave sat up, inviting him to take it off. John didn't need to be told twice. He practically ripped it off and threw it across the room, where it landed neatly on a lamp.

Dave, beautiful, perfect, (shirtless!), Dave had John pinned, chiseled hips to chiseled hips. John gazed up and down. And then down again. Apparently not all of Dave was as calm as his face. John flipped over, rolling Dave underneath him and grabbing his hands, trapping him.

"John!" Dave sounded indignant. _Ha, too bad Mister Strider. You're mine now._

John was wasting no time. He flung off Dave's pants, but paused at his red boxers. They matched his gorgeous scarlet eyes. He almost didn't want to take them off, but that look Dave was giving to him just screamed "_Fuck me_," and John was all to willing to comply. Off they went, and John felt his own boxers getting progressively tighter.

Dave pulled him down for a kiss. His mouth was so soft, and it was made just for John. Everything about him was perfectly suited for John.

But Dave was using it as bait. John, off guard, was flipped under again as Dave tore his boxers off. Both free, both ready, it was almost too much. John's abdomen quivered in anticipation of the delight to come.

(No pun intended)

Dave sucked on his neck, and kissed his collarbone. Collarbones had never been this sexy. Dave stroked his harder and harder, until John was begging for him to _please _finish the job.

It was funny, given all the times John had said he wasn't gay, how bad he wanted Dave's dick. He wanted it, needed it. He wanted him, late at night, with the stars as the only light to guide their no longer fumbling hands.

Of course, it hadn't helped that during Truth or Dare, Dave was dared to kiss him. John could barely look him in his stunning red eyes for weeks. Or at least, not after he stammered out his confession and Dave had kissed him again.

And again. And again. But that's not important now.

It was only time to return the favor. John wrapped his hands around Dave's dick and stroked up and down once, then stopped. Oh god, he wanted to take a picture that _face _he was making. Red blush, hair falling into his eyes, half closed with the sheer pleasure rolling over him. And those moans he was making could have sent a lesbian over the edge. John's stomach clicked a notch. Not long now.

"D-dave," he moaned, lightly floating his hand around him, "I don't think...I don't think I can last-" a little firework shot off and he gasped as his knees buckled. "Last-! Much longer," he hissed out through his teeth.

"Oh thank fuck," Dave groaned, "I thought you'd never say it." He pinned John's hands above his head and as their dicks touched with closeness, they both jerked, their hips crashing together.

"_Aah! _Dave! Dave, Dave, _DAVE!_" John screamed out his name as all his elation exploded in a sticky white mess on the sheets. Dave shrieked his name out too and John relished the expression only he would see. Who knew the cool kid could sound so girly?

Dave collapsed on the bed, his warmth giving John a sense of protection against the storm. John reached out his arms, ensnaring Dave, naked chest to naked chest. As they held each other, John felt another sort of soft swelling, this time in his heart. "I love you," he whispered, nuzzling Dave's cheek.

"I love you too," Dave murmured back. He kissed John gently, conveying all the sweetness of his words in one move. "But you never said I was right."

"Right? Right about that? Oh hell no. No matter how much you try to 'convince' me."

"Come on John. Admit it. Coke is way better than Pepsi."

* * *

_**Ahem. First smutty fic. Tah-dah. *blushes and hides***_


End file.
